


Amata bene (well-loved)

by perilit



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, I love that tag, M/M, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 04:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13780074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perilit/pseuds/perilit
Summary: "In retrospect, Steve should've expected it."Steve finds himself unprepared for a particularly nasty Tony-brand nightmare. Good thing he's not one to back down from a challenge, even if that challenge is a traumatized engineer-billionaire. Tears and comfort ensue.





	Amata bene (well-loved)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Can You Feel My Heart Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072983) by [IndigoNight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoNight/pseuds/IndigoNight). 



In retrospect, Steve should’ve expected it.

He’d walked into the room he shared with Tony, intent on taking a shower after a satisfyingly tiring sparring session that involved Thor, Natasha, and a fair amount of manhandling. He wasn’t expecting to find Tony in the room; it was ten p.m., and he expected the genius to still be in his workshop or in the lab with Bruce. After all, it was barely even “evening” for Tony.

That’s why he was caught so off-guard.

It’s dark in the spacious room. Something – probably JARVIS – is making a soft  _ whirring _ noise. Tony, clad in a tank top and a pair of worn sweatpants, is curled up in a loose ball on the bed, hugging a pillow against his chest protectively. His face has a smudge of what is probably a combination of grease and dirt on his cheek. Steve pads across the room to the bathroom, JARVIS helpfully illuminating the room once he closes the door and then starting the water. Ten minutes later, Steve steps out of the bathroom, muscles relaxed. He tugs on a pair of sweatpants and then carefully slides into bed behind Tony, gently looping an arm loosely around the other man’s waist and then closing his own eyes, his senses full of Tony’s warm, motor oil-and-aftershave scent. “Goodnight, Captain,” JARVIS says quietly, before resuming the  _ whirring _ noise. Steve mumbles a “G’night, Jarvis”, before sinking into sleep.

 

_ Dark. Cold. God, always so cold. There’s filthy water everywhere, burning his nose and throat, greasy and thin, flooding his ears and sinuses. Water laps at the reactor and fiery pain ignites in his entire torso, making Tony nearly black out. Rough hands slap his face, stinging…and then he’s suddenly looking at Howard, leaning over him, a hand on the reactor…Howard. The reactor comes free with a click. Steve’s face flashes before Howard’s replaces it again. “This is for your own damn good, Tony." Steve’s lips move. Howard’s voice. No. No. “It’s better this way.” “Please, don’t. I’m sorry,” he pleads, shutting his eyes so he won’t have to meet Steve’s gaze. Howard’s. He’s going to die at Steve’s hands, and oh god, of course Howard would plan this, Tony dead at the hands of his hero. Tony thought he hadn’t fucked up this time…— _

Steve’s always been a light sleeper. So when Tony shudders, bone-deep, against him and moans, low in his throat, Steve’s awake within moments, sitting up and watching Tony carefully. He keeps his voice level and calm. “Tony.” Tony’s hands clutch desperately at the pillow, and he shivers, twitching. “Tony,” Steve says again, hoping the name is enough to draw him into peaceful sleep again.

No such luck.

Tony lets out a terrified whimper, and Steve’s heart clenches as Tony starts to whisper brokenly, a jumble of languages. “ _Non_. _Per f-favore_. Sorry. _Scusa_. Plea-“ Tony sobs, and then he’s bolt-upright, chest heaving, hands scrabbling for purchase on the reactor, breath coming in sharp gasps. He reaches one hand up to pull sharply at his hair, the other pressed over the reactor. JARVIS begins quietly reciting the time, date, and weather. Steve barely resists reaching out for him, not sure if the touch is welcome, instead joining JARVIS’ soft recitations. “Tony. C’mon back to me. I gotcha. It’s Steve. You’re safe. I gotcha. We’re in the tower, in our bed. Take a deep breath for me, hmm? Hey, there we go. Just like that, so good. You’re doing so good, Tony.” Steve keeps up the low, gentle murmur until Tony draws in a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes focusing on Steve. “Steve?” He chokes out. “Yeah, it’s me, honey.” Tony shudders, across the room before Steve realizes what’s happening. Tony’s shaking like a leaf, arms wrapped around himself protectively, over the reactor. “ _Scusa_. Sorry. Sorry.” He whispers, not meeting Steve’s worried gaze. “I-I’ll be better, _promett_ -promise. S-sorry. Sorry.” Before Steve can open his mouth to protest, Tony’s gone, his side of the bed slowly cooling.

It takes Steve a minute to register what just happened, and when he does, panic surges in his throat. He swallows and instead opens his mouth. “J-JARVIS?” “Yes, Captain?” The smooth voice asks. “I-Is…where is Tony? Is he okay?” The AI is silent for a moment. “Sir is in no physical danger. He has…forbade me to  _ tell _ you where he is. However, I have no current restrictions about  _ showing _ you. If you would, Captain.” He’s up and out of bed before JARVIS even finishes talking. “Lead the way.” He instructs. The lights in the hallway flick on and Steve follows them, faint amusement rising as he follows JARVIS’ trail of lights down to the workshop. All good humor disappears, however, when he reaches the shop door. It’s unlocked. The lights are dimmed, and DUM-E rolls over to him, whirring worriedly. “I know, buddy,” Steve soothes quietly, giving him a pat on his support strut. “I’m going to help Tony, okay? Can you show me where he is?” DUM-E beeps again, tugging on Steve’s shirt as if to say  _ follow me _ . Steve lets the ‘bot lead him through the workshop, his heart aching a little more when he spots Tony just barely visible behind one of the sagging couches, crammed in the space between cloth and wall, his knees drawn up to his chest and head hidden in his arms. He’s mumbling to himself in Italian again, a soft jumble of syllables. Steve normally loves it when Tony speaks Italian, but when he does so in distress, it’s an indication that he’s far away, caught up in memories of his childhood.  _ “Perdonami. Rifiuto. Mi dispiace. Mi dispiace. Fardello. Fardello. Rifiuto. Padre non, perdonami.” _

“…Tony?” Steve says quietly, not wanting to startle him. Tony jerks in surprise. His eyes are unfocused and red-rimmed, lips tinged with blood. “ _ Va via _ .” He mumbles, the words softened by the way his voice shakes over the words. “I can’t understand you, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, helplessly. It frustrates him, not being able to understand Tony’s distress. Tony doesn’t respond, shoulders trembling, and Steve’s chest  _ aches _  with the need to hold him. He hasn’t moved, still a good foot away from Tony. “Tony?” he asks gently. “ _ Padre, non _ .” “Sweetheart, it’s Steve,” Steve says, calm even though his heart is breaking. “Steve.” A few minutes pass like this, Steve kneeling on the hard concrete, Tony curled up, shaking silently. “Tony?” he tries again. 

 

Tony shudders as he takes a deep breath and looks up, his eyes still a little hazy. “Howard?” He shakes his head. “Steve?” Steve scoots closer and carefully slips his hand into Tony’s. 

 

Tony stiffens for a moment, and Steve almost pulls away, but then Tony’s closing the distance between them, clinging to his t-shirt with a white-knuckled grip and pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder. Steve wraps an arm around Tony’s back, keeping him securely in place, the other arm moving so he can cup the back of Tony’s head in his palm. “The-e-ere we go.” He says softly. “I’ve gotcha. What’s got you so worked up, hmm?”

Tony doesn’t respond right away, just shakes helplessly against Steve’s body, the quiet punctuated by sniffles and shuddering breaths. Steve waits patiently. Finally, Tony turns his head against Steve’s shoulder, still hiding his face from Steve’s eyes. “N-nightmare. Dad.” He shivers and his chest jerks upward as his breath hitches. “H-Howard...taking the reactor, but then it...wasn’t, and then it w-was. I-I don’t.. it was _you_ …” Tony’s breath hitches sharply. Steve blinks back tears of his own at the pain in Tony’s voice. “…I d-don’t know…I c-can’t, fuck-…” Tony's breath stutters, his back heaving as his breath speeds up. Steve ignores the way his t-shirt gets damp as Tony turns to hide his face in Steve’s shoulder once again. “Shh, no. It’s okay,” Steve soothes, rubbing Tony’s back. “He’s gone. He’s not here. You’re safe.” Tony sniffles and sighs, turns his face so his words aren’t as muffled. “I can’t...I've dreamt of him before...but  _f-fuck_ …” He stops and turns his head into Steve’s chest as a full-body shudder passes through him. “You’ve never dreamed of me taking it,” Steve says cautiously. Tony nods. It takes him a few minutes to speak again, Steve holding on tighter as he feels Tony stifling sobs. _“_...I-I k-know you w-wouldn’t do th-that, I j-just…fuck…I don’t know what happened, things got so mixed up and then I-I didn’t know where I was. _Fuck_ , I thought you were _H-Howard_. I’m s-sorry, I c-couldn’t even remember what _language_ to speak, I’m s-sorry...” he chokes, covering his eyes with a hand. Steve pulls away a little, blinking as tears of his own fall. “Tony…" Steve pauses and tips Tony's chin so blue eyes can meet bloodshot brown. "I can’t make this better. I can’t change what happened. But I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to scare me off." Tony’s lips press into a thin line. He nods and looks away. “I mean it.” Steve says firmly. “How many times have you had to dodge a punch from me waking up from a nightmare because I thought you were a German soldier? Or had to haul me into the shower because I was convinced I was back in the ice? There is nothing you could do that would be too bad for me to handle. _This is not your fault_.” 

It takes a while, but Tony pulls away slightly, wiping away tears. He looks wrecked, eyes swollen and red, upper lip shiny with snot, his hair mussed. “Sorry.” He says quietly, voice clogged. Steve kisses his forehead, and Tony relaxes against him. “Think you can go back to bed?” Tony exhales shakily, looking Steve directly for the first time that night. “Stay with me?” he whispers, eyes red and blown wide, vulnerable in a way that makes Steve want to scream at anyone who’s ever denied Tony. “Always.”

He shepherds Tony back up to their room, wrapping his body protectively around the engineer as soon as they’re both in the bed. Tony swallows. “I...if I...again....” He whispers almost inaudibly. Steve’s heart breaks at the soft admission. “I’ll be right here,” he promises the man. “The whole night, and when you wake up.” Tony hesitates before tucking his head under Steve’s chin. “ _ Ti Amo tesoro mio _ ," he whispers. " _ Non posso vivere senza di te. _ ”

__

“Love you, Tony. So much.” Steve murmurs, carding a hand through dark hair. “So much.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore a combination of Steve/Tony hurt + comfort, with the added challenge of incorporating another language other than English into a nightmare or flashback. Let me know how I did!
> 
> Translations:  
> Ti Amo tesoro mio: I love you, my treasure.  
> Non posso vivere senza di te: I cannot live without you.  
> Non: No  
> Per favore: Please  
> Scusa: Sorry  
> Padre: Father/Dad  
> Perdonami: Forgive me  
> Rifiuto: Waste, junk  
> Mi dispiace: I'm sorry  
> Fardello: Burden  
> Va via: Go away


End file.
